


Flush

by Spades



Series: Tumblr Drabble Challenge [7]
Category: Incredible Hulk (2008), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Comforting, F/M, Fear, Guilt, M/M, Nightmares, drowning in dreams, not a happy thing, not talking about issues, tony you suck at this relationship thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-24
Updated: 2012-08-24
Packaged: 2017-11-12 19:22:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/494772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spades/pseuds/Spades
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>when my time comes, forget the wrong that I've done</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flush

Red, that's all he sees, red and he hears screaming at him – slanderous names being hurled in every direction ( _merchant of death, monster, you're a **monster**_ Tony). He can feel the press of fingers curling around his limbs, around his throat, choking the air supply off – squeezing with a lovers grip. He catches glimpses of the war-charred (skin burnt, roasted pig with the thick disgusting musk of singed hair invading his nostrils) hands dragging him deeper into the red (copper, tangy, **blood** ). It feels he's being dropped into the flushed wound that he's caused – he doesn't think he deserves any less, he deserves this, to die there right there, it's always the least he could do to fix the blood he split upon the sacred grounds that never used to exist to him. His heart thunders and there's a thrum – slowly, pulled deeper and deeper, red filling his nostrils and mouth and fuck he suddenly doesn't want to die, he fights against the hands and chokes himself on the thick red liquid, there's crying now – maybe his own, new gold wetness dribbling from his eyes and he knows he'd dying right then and there and no one will ever miss him. -- He awakes with a start, seeing two faces shining down at him. His breathing is hard and it's already mussing Pepper's red hair, glowing messily around her, a halo for an angel such as she all thanks to his heaving (wonderful) intakes of air. And Bruce, the worried brown eyes, the green creeping back down his neck into obscurity – he knows the fear, the unspoken questions lingering there just on the tip of his tongue. They kiss him, they don't ask about what he was screaming about, why he was asking for it all to stop, why he was crying – He was sleeping, dreaming. All he just remembers the press of hands, dragging him into something, drowning, and suddenly, he's glad they don't ask. The red flush on a yellow soul will never go away – all they can do is wring it out when the open wound seeps and stains all over again.


End file.
